


And I'll Use You as a Focal Point

by spocksbrowneyes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: And the crew would do anything for their Captain and First Officer, Angst, Blood and Torture, Drowning, Established James T. Kirk/Spock, Fluff, Hurt Spock (Star Trek), Hurt/Comfort, I Swear It's Going to Come Eventually, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Poisoning, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Spock loves his crew, Whump, and he would do anything for them.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spocksbrowneyes/pseuds/spocksbrowneyes
Summary: A mission goes wrong, leaving Jim and Spock stuck on the planet Gavnar IV at the mercy of a ruthless leader.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 10
Kudos: 105





	1. I'll Use You as a Warning Sign

Jim, Spock, Jayla, and Sulu stepped off the shuttle and onto the planet Gavnar Ⅵ. They had a simple mission, make contact with the locals who’d show interest in joining the federation. The alien species inhabiting the planet, the Niktun, had requested that the party report to the palace of their leader. As usual, they complied.

The planet was small and most of it was biome similar to the Taiga of Earth. 

“Alright, as everybody knows we’re here to make a nice tie with the Niktun and the Federation. If we can’t get them on board with joining the Federation, at least establish a peaceful relationship.” Jim announced, “Jayla, Sulu, how are we looking for when we take off again?”

“There shouldn’t be a problem, James T.”

“Everything’s up and running, we should be good,” Sulu replied, giving Jim a thumbs up.

“Great,” Jim smiled, “Spock, anything regarding the weather or local fauna we should know about?”

“Little information regarding local fauna and flora is available, however of what there is, there is no record of any particularly hostile organisms. The same lack of information applies to weather systems, of which, there are no predictions or records for it,” Spock answered.

“So we’ll keep an eye out,” Jim said, giving Spock a friendly slap on the shoulder, then his communicator beeped.

Jim pulled the little device off his belt, and flipped it open, “Kirk here.”

Uhura’s voice came over the line, “The Niktun said to meet them at the front gates of their village, it’s about 500 meters to from the landing point.”

“Great, Kirk out,” Jim said, flipping the communicator shut, “Okay, let’s head out.”

Jayla sprung up from where she was next to the ship, and Sulu pulled away from a flower he’d been admiring. Jim started walking down the path, Spock and the rest of the group following up behind him. There wasn’t much of a trail leading to the meeting point, from what information was available supplied, inhabitants, didn’t venture outside of the walls that surrounded their village often. As for their surroundings, it was undeniably beautiful. Tall trees surrounded them, were coniferous, and their needles were bright orange. There was a little bit of snow loitering in small patches.

Spock looked around him as he walked. Altamid was really the only planet he’d been to that had little to no information documented on it. Of course, he hadn’t done any scientific work there, he was kind of busy with getting back to the crew and not dying of exsanguination. But even now, they were here on a primarily political mission, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued. Even on planets with plenty of information on, even Earth, he was truly fascinated by the environment.

As interesting as Vulcan was, it was interesting due to its lack of relatively simple life, and somewhat desolate features, but still having the ability to support complex life. However, in places like these, there was almost nothing familiar to Spock, it was all new, and it was all different.

“Greetings!” a loud voice cried out, startling the whole party.

Everyone turned to see a pair running towards them, two Niktuns, one male and one female. They were humanoid, with light pale blue skin. Their eyes were more slender than humans and there were ridges on their faces. However, not as complex as those of a Klingon, and they were only in a strip from the bridge of their noses up to their hairlines. Both had white hair, the woman’s was long and hanging loose, the man’s was the same color, only short and messy. They were dressed in thin furs, and the clothes seemed relatively primitive, similar to that of the ancient human Vikings. However, it was said that rather than a lack of resources in the area, it was simply tradition. And for the environment of the planet, an intelligent one.

“Greetings,” Jim mimicked, “I’m Captian Kirk, and these are my crewmates.”

Them two looked over to the rest of the crew, not paying much attention to Sulu, but seemed intrigued by Jayla and Spock. Sulu and Jayla waved to them, and Spock gave the Vulcan salute. 

The woman lit up, “Azan wishes to see you right away, come along.”


	2. That if You Talk Enough Sense Then You'll Lose Your Mind

The pair of Niktunians brought them to a large stone palace, and through the doors. The interior was lavish but open and airy. It was clear that their leader was quite important to their culture. Chatting away with one another in the native language, they lead them into a grand hallway, Spock deduced that it was a throne room of some sort but kept to himself.

“Elihu, Alaya, you may leave,” a voice crowed.

The man and woman who had escorted them straightened up immediately, and left the room. A man came into the room, he too was a Niktun but looked much more regal. His clothes, like the rest of the castle, were quite luxurious, and a metal circlet adorned his head. Two guards that were standing in the room kneeled as soon as they saw him. Jim shot a quick look to Spock, Sulu, and Jayla to follow suit.

The man sat on the throne at the back of the room. With some very quick mental math, Spock had concluded that it was perfectly centered against the wall. In fact, everything in the room leading up to the throne was. The man sat in a dignified manner, his legs were crossed over one another, and his hands were folded neatly in his lap.

“You may rise.”

The guards did as they were told, and the landing party did as well. Spock looked at the man’s face. His features were sharper than the other Niktuns he’d see, but that wasn’t what he was analyzing. His expression was. His lips held a soft smirk, and his eyes had an almost ominous look to them.

“I am Azan, leader of this kingdom, and this planet,” he paused for a moment, surveying the group, “Ah, Capitan Kirk. I heard you had a proposal for me,” 

His voice was unsettling to Spock. It was very smooth, and the undertone seemed, almost a low-key kind of demanding. Jim didn’t seem fazed by the Azan and began with the pitch that he always recited to those interested in joining the federation and as he had said regarding similar missions, ‘just working his charm’. Spock looked at Azan’s face as Jim talked, and processed what he was saying. Spock couldn’t name the expression he was showing, but he seemed to have an antagonistic aura to it. And Spock didn’t trust him. Jim finished his speech, and Azan got up. He paced a bit atop the pedestal the throne was placed on.

The guards looked away from their leader, and when the group didn’t shot them a look so they would get the hint. Jim looked over to Spock. His first officer seemed more on edge than usual. Jim nudged Spock a bit with his elbow, getting his attention. Jim gave him a look as if he were trying to ask,  _ you good? _ .

Spock raised an eyebrow a bit, not getting the message.

_ “You good?” _ Jim asked over their bond.

_ “I am adequate, Capitan. However, you should not attempt to communicate telepathically in such a setting,”  _ Spock responded.

_ “Why? Nobody can hear us. So, you also don’t need to call me Capitan.” _

Spock ignored the part about not calling him Capitan,  _ “By Vulcan standards, having a telepathic conversation is the equivalent of a normal conversation in such circumstances, which by your standards would be considered disrespectful.” _

Jim nodded a bit, and Spock looked away from him. He tried to build up his walls as much as he could, he ruled his suspicions as illogical. Jim had show discomfort similar to his with others in the past, and it proved to be incorrect. However, he still couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Capitan Kirk,” Azan declared, everybody reassuming their positions to look at him, “I’ve come to a conclusion on your offer.”

“Thank you for deciding so quickly,” Jim chirped.

“It is truly my pleasure,” He paused, and Spock glanced around him, feeling as if they were being watched. The feeling was creeping up and no matter how hard he tried to push it down, it just bit back with his own reasoning, he just doesn’t seem trustworthy.

Azan tilted his head slightly, his eyes burning with dark intensity, “Seize them.”

The guards charged them, grabbing Sulu and Jayla first with two more entering the room for Jim and Spock. Jayla fought their grip, but they knocked her out. Sulu’s outcome was similar. All the while Jim and Spock were trying to stay out of the grasp of their own captors, and get the rest of their crew. Jim managed to get Sulu, and flipped open his communicator, and yelled for a beam up, and pulled out a phaser. 

He downed the guards going after him and Sulu, then shot at the guard holding Jayla. The phaser blast missed but distracted the guard long enough for Spock to grab Jayla. Azan watched menacingly and called for more guards. Jim shot the last guard, and they sprinted out of the hall.

“What the hell?!” Jim yelled as they ran, pulling out his communicator again, Sulu slung across his shoulders, “Scotty! Beam us up!”

They ran back to the entrance, there were more guards waiting there. Jim pulled his phaser back out and started firing again. Spock put Jayla over his shoulder and did the same. More guards came from down the hallway. The yelling in a the language that neither Spock nor Jim could recognize turned the moment more chaotic.

“We’re a bit outnumbered Spock!” Jim yelled at him.

A guard came up behind Jim, prepared to hit him over the head, “Jim!”

Jim whipped his head around to see it coming and dodged it, he pulled out his phaser and shot.

In the chaos he missed, hitting Spock’s torso, causing him to drop his own phaser.

“Shit!” Jim cursed, firing at more of the guards, “Spock, you okay?”

Spock picked his phaser back up and nodded, the pain in his torso blossoming, and vision blurring. Thankfully, it was just on a low-grade stun, not enough to not Spock out with his half-Vulcan heritage. However, it sure as hell was enough to make him feel like they’d all just been thrown across the bridge while going through an ion storm or something.

Spock shot at the guards, his aim off due to the intensifying dizziness plaguing him.

Jim spun around to face Spock, only for his eyes to widen, “Spock!”

Before Spock could react, he felt Jayla being ripped off his shoulder and being punched in the face. Then a cloth of some sort pressed to his face and putting him in a headlock. He tried to jerk against the grip, but he was too weak. The smell emanating from the cloth had a sharp chemical scent, it was nauseating. Jim pulled Jayla back from the guard and commed the  _ Enterprise  _ again. He laid Sulu and Jayla next to each other, threw the communicator in between them, and ran at Spock.

All Spock felt was tired, like he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, and all he could see was Sulu and Jayla become enveloped in bright light. Then, nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, uh, nobody cares about this, but the chemical the cloth is soaked is based on Chloroform.


	3. And I'll Use You as a Focal Point

Spock’s eyes fluttered open, his head ached horribly and the world seemed to be spinning violently. There was a bright light shining in his face. Spock tried to sit up, but couldn’t move. He looked at his hands to see that they were tied down to a stone table he was laying on. He deduced that his feet were strapped down in a similar way as he couldn’t move them.

“Comfortable?” a voice dripping with pride asked. Azan.

He paced around the table, “I must say, I didn’t think that the sedative would hold you for so long, but of course, it is more of a chemical than a sedative. And, there isn’t much information on how it works in Vulcans or whatever you are.”

Azan walked up to Spock so he was right by his shoulder, and tipped Spock’s head towards him with his finger, “Don’t talk much, do you?” he paused and looked into his eyes, “Or feel much, I assume. Not exactly the Vulcan forte now is it?”

“But, with what I want from you, you don’t have to say too much at all,” he smirked deviously.

“So, what is it that I want?” he walked to the other side of the room and grabbed a small disc-like object. He flipped it on, and walked back over to Spock, “You see this? This as you probably know, is none other than your precious ship, NCC-17, the starship  _ Enterprise _ .”

Turning off the device, he pushed away the light, “It’s Starfleet’s flagship. And I personally have a bit of...I guess you could say business, to settle with your Federation.”

Azan walked away, over to a table out of Spock’s sight. Spock breathed in and out. In and out. Whatever he wanted, he wasn’t going to give him. He wasn’t going to put his ship in danger, not his crew, not his Capitan. Nobody.

Azan came back, playing with a knife in his hands a bit, the blade glistening in the light. He stopped at Spock’s side, observing the weapon in his hand, “So,” he looked to Spock, “What are the security codes to the _ Enterprise _ ?”

Spock stayed quiet. 

Azan brushed the knife along Spock’s cheek, it wasn’t enough to draw blood, but it sent a shiver through Spock, “Well, what are they? I’d assume you know,” he brushed his finger along the cuff of Spock’s uniform, looking at the 2 rank-distinguishing stripes.

Spock kept his mouth shut, averting his eyes from Azan’s menacing gaze. He knew the codes, of course, he did. It was protocol, the Capitan, First Officer, and Cheif of Security knew all the security codes. But he couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t tell fellow crew members, he couldn’t tell his captor. And he didn’t plan to.

Azan sighed, and shook his head a bit, “Hm, so maybe I shouldn’t be asking you. Maybe it was the bastard in the yellow shirt,” the comment made Spock bite the inside of his lip, willing himself not to say anything in response. It wasn’t clear if he was talking about Jim or Sulu, but either way, the  _ Enterprise  _ crew was like family. And if there was one this Spock hated above everything else or allowed himself to hate, it was people who talked shit about his family. Whether it was his mother, his siblings, or his crew, it never failed to piss him off. 

But he couldn’t let him see that. He couldn’t let him win. He couldn’t put that family he held so close in danger because he couldn’t control himself. 

Azan tapped his chin, mocking deep thought, “Or was it the bitch in the red shirt?” Spock stifled his anger, his sheer disgust with this man, whose mind was so bleached with pride that he thought he could say whatever he wanted about whomever he wanted.

He shook his head, “No, she’s not a high enough rank.”

He turned back to Spock, “So, there’s nobody else, nobody else but you, who can give me what I want.”

Azan studied his face his smirk changing into a malicious grin, “Oh? What’s this? The look in your eyes. You don’t like me talking about your crew that way do you?” Spock’s flat expression didn’t falter.

“Huh,” Azan huffed, admiring the blade in his hand, “So...codes?”

Spock looked away from the haughty leader. Without warning, a sharp pain drug across his wrist. He flicked his eyes over to the man, who was smiling at the now emerald-stained knife blade. However, the smile quickly faded, and he turned back to the table he’d gotten the weapon from, picking a larger blade.

“I don’t want to kill you. I won’t get anything out of you that way. But, I really do need you to talk,” Azan placed the cold metal to Spock’s arm, and Spock braced himself, attempting to push away the pain in his head and wrist, and the dizziness that had been plaguing him since he awoke. 

“You know what I want, now tell me.”

Spock didn’t say anything, he just built up his walls, his control. Willing himself to be as stoic as possible despite the disadvantage of having a headache as bad as he did. 

“Fine,” Azan stated coldly.

He pressed the knife into Spock’s skin, dragging it across his forearm, directly above the first cut. He continued this way, all the way until he’d reached Spock’s elbow. His arm burned with pain, but Spock didn’t falter. He could control it. He had to.

The sadistic ruler stopped, flicking the blood off the knife, and calling a guard over to take it. The guard took the knife and handed his king a damp, white cloth.

Azan purred maliciously, “You’re tough, I’ll give you that,” he shoved the cloth to Spock’s face, “Let’s see how much more you can take.”


	4. So I Don't Lose Sight of What I Want

Spock was shocked awake as cold water bit into his skin. He shook his head, getting some of the excess water of his face. At some point, he couldn’t remember when, he’d been drug here. He was on his knees, hands tied behind his back to a metal pole. His memory was fuzzy, something else had happened since Azan cut him, be he didn’t know what. The aching in his head was pulsating, and his knees hurt from kneeling on the solid floor.

“Hello.”

Spock lifted his head up to see Azan, still dripping in pride and arrogance. He walked up to the half-Vulcan and stroked his silky hair. His expression quickly turned malicious, grabbing a fist full of raven black hair, he punched Spock in the face. It hit surprisingly hard, opening a shallow gash on Spock’s face. Smiling, he brushed off his hands.

He forced Spock’s chin up, his hair wet from the rude awakening and hanging in his face a bit.

“Now,” Azan said in a sultry tone, “I want the security codes for your ship.”

Spock said nothing, rather focusing on his breathing, keeping the pain in the back of his mind. The pain in his head that made him dizzy. The pain in his knees from digging into the hard ground. The pain in his hands from the rope digging into them. The pain in his forearm from the rope digging into the cuts. The Niktun walked around Spock, the metal tips and soles of his shoes clicking on the ground as he went.

He stopped behind Spock, taking the rope fastening his hands together and tightening it, ripping the wounds from the previous day back open. He walked back around, grabbing a whip off of the table holding all his weapons.

He unfurled it and shook it out, snapping in the air, “You’re not making it any easier on yourself. I suggest you tell me,” he paused for a moment, “You’re crew, I doubt they’d be any more disappointed in you than they already are. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

Spock thought of them, Leonard, Chekov, Sulu, Jayla. Scotty, Uhura, Keenser, everyone else too. And then Jim. His Capitan. His friend, his  _ best _ friend. His love. His t’hy’la. He couldn’t put them in danger. He could put Jim in danger, not because of his mistakes.

“Codes. Tell me the codes.”

Keeping his head down, Spock did the only thing he could.

“No.”

“What was that?” Azan challenged.

“No,” Spock repeated, his voice stronger this time. It was still flat, still emotionless. 

“Your mistake.”

Azan looked across the room and gestured for a guard to come over. The guard walked right up to Spock and ripped his science blues off over his head, throwing them on the ground next to him, leaving just his black undershirt. The whip snapped against Spock’s back. The shirt did nothing to stop the pain. Again. And again, and again. By the time he was done, Spock could feel the warmth of blood dripping down his shoulder blades.

Spock stifled the shaking that threatened to overtake him, but Spock shoved it down without mercy. His crew was on the line, his Capitan. His friends. He couldn’t put them in danger. He repeated it to himself in his head. He couldn’t put them in danger. Never.

“I’m genuinely surprised,” Azan said, wrapping up the whip, “I thought you’d break already. But of course, you’d have to be horrendously weak if you did. But I thought you were.

Azan stopped, glancing back at Spock a little confused, but it quickly morphed into a vile smirk. He motioned for the guards again, they came to stand in front of him.

“Restrain him.”

They quickly took up their places on either side of Spock, holding him back in an iron grip.

Azan walked up to him, no weapon, no cloth, just him. Spock looked up at him, his facade still holding strong, but there was part of his eyes that were fearful of just what this maniac of a man was going to do.

Azan smirked, pulling his long, flowing sleeves back a bit, “You know, the look in your eyes, the outright emotion in them,” he lied, “I nearly forgot you were Vulcan. But, you are. Aren’t you?”

Azan kneeled down in front of Spock, who said nothing, “You’re telepaths.  _ Touch _ telepaths,” he smirked, “And so are we. Maybe we’re not as strong but, we are.”

Spock looked at him, unable to respond. Somehow, the pure fear kicked his mind into overdrive. He tried to build up his walls as much as he could, close off his bonds, practically failsafe his own mind. In an instant, Spock’s vision blurred, Azan initiating a meld. Spock started to fight it, trying to shake his head, throw Azan off his melding points, but he was quickly put in a headlock by a guard. He started to fight Azan, who was trying to get past his walls. 

The human in Spock kicked in, the Vulcan part of him who had such a delicate mind retreating to keep up its walls. Spock started to shake his head, fidget, throw him off. The headlock became tighter, but the illogical human half within Spock kept at it.

Azan started to tear into his mind, exposing memories of the past few hours, memories that were hazy to Spock, memories of the chaos that ensued before his capture. The memory of the code was much deeper, he couldn’t allow him to get there. He couldn’t put his crew in danger.

Spock bucked his head up, throwing Azan off. The room stood still as he recollected himself, and went back to his feet.

“You are quite a fighter,” he said, disgusted.

He looked Spock dead in eyes, who was still reeling from the mental assault, but still remained unbroken. Without warning Azan kicked Spock in the chest, metal-clad shoes tearing through skin and snapping bones from the sheer force of the hit. 

Before Spock could recover from the hit, Azan shoved his head against the metal pole, and spat, venom dripping from his voice, “You will tell me the codes to your goddammed ship,” he inhaled sharply, “And I will be sure you die here. You will die here!”

His eyes boring into him, he hissed, “What. Are. The codes?”

Spock said nothing, but he didn’t break eye contact. Azan’s lip furled, he yelled out and punched Spock as hard as he could in the jaw. The last thing he saw before he blacking out was Azan, and his enraged face.


	5. And I've Moved Further Than I Thought I Could

Spock felt the burn of a whip bite into his back.

“Wake up!”

Spock cracked open his eyes, his head pounding, chest aching the same. His shirt was damp with blood on the lower right side. His hands were still tied tightly behind his back, and he was on his knees, he hadn’t been move after the previous torture. 

“Wake up!” Azan yelled, kicking Spock’s injured side. Spock opened his eyes wider and looked up at the ruthless Niktun. His face remained emotionless, even as blood ran from the corner of his mouth, there was no hint of emotion.

Satisfied, Azan’s smirk returned to his face once more, “Good, you’re up,” he started circling Spock, “Now, I know that because of your strange...devotion, to your crew, you won’t give me the security codes, so I have found something that I hope makes you reconsider that choice.”

He stopped and ushered over a guard, who handed him a PADD. He turned the device on and began to recite the contents of the page, “Commander Spock.”

Spock’s blood ran cold. He’d found his file, but that wasn’t his source of worry. If he’d found his file, he obviously had a way to do so and could access other files. And that meant if he had the skills, and with enough time we could reap whatever havoc it was that he wanted upon the  _ Enterprise _ . Upon its crew. Upon Jim. Upon his family.

Azan continued, “Born January 6, 2230, ShiKahr Vulcan. Half-Vulcan, half-human.”

Spock felt dread knotting up in his stomach, combined with the nauseating pain, and hunger, Spock thought that he might just throw up on the spot. This couldn’t be happening.

Azan paused and smiled maliciously, “Born to Sarek of Vulcan and Amanda Grayson of Earth,” he paused, “deceased.”

Spock felt himself collapsing in on himself, the mentioning of his mother coming from such a man only amplifying the excruciating pain he was already in. Spock took a deep breath and didn’t allow himself to falter.

Azan scrolled down the screen, and he announced, “Serving aboard the  _ USS Enterprise _ as Cheif Science Officer and  **First Officer to Capitan James Tiberius Kirk** .”

Spock felt dizzy, he already did, but this was new, it was more as if his mind itself was spinning, swirling into a vortex. He knew, Azan knew. If he knew anything at all about the chain of command, he knew. He knew that Spock knew the codes, he knew.

Azan shut off the PADD and handed to back to the guard, then kneeled in front of Spock, tipping his chin up so their eyes would meet, “Spock, I know, all that I need to about you. I know you sustained a severe injury while stranded on a planet. I know you lost people in the destruction of Vulcan. I know all I need to. Including the fact that the security codes I want are only known by the Capitan, Cheif of Security, and First Officer.”

Spock built up his walls, pushed back the pain, trying to prepare himself for whatever was going to happen. He bit his lip until it bled to stay blank, he thought of the judgemental faces of his peers, ostracizing him for his very existence, and how badly he wanted to prove them wrong.

Then, the dreaded question came, slowly, and cruelly, “Spock. What are the codes?”

Spock took a deep breath, his words slurred a little by the blood dripping from his mouth, “I will not disclose such information to you.”

Azan shook his head, “You truly are a half-blooded fool.”

Azan motioned for the guards, they came over and untied Spock. They pulled him up to his feet but went nowhere. Spock felt as if it weren’t for their grip on his arms, he would surely fall. The cruel Niktun walked up to his prisoner and kicked his feet out from under him. The guards let go to allow him to fall. Spock’s head hit the uneven cobblestone ground. Hard. Pain flared up in his chest as he hit the ground.

“Take him,” Azan ordered.

Spock was ripped up off the ground and drug out of the room. He tried to get a footing on the ground, but the guards were moving too quickly for him to keep up with them. His knees were scrapped worse than he’d thought to be possible, making it hurt to walk. He stumbled along, through dimly lit halls, tripping over the stones that jutted out of the ground. They came to a yet another room, it smelled musty, and the ground was slick. 

Water dripped from the pipes that crossed overhead. There were a few metal bins up against the wall. The guards tied his hands behind his back again. Spock came to the difficult conclusion that even if he tried to fight, he couldn’t. He didn’t know how long he’d been here anymore. After the first round of torture, between the pain, nausea, and passing out, he couldn’t tell what time it was, how long it’d been since he had seen his crew. He just hoped that they were safe.

Azan walked in and glanced over to the guards, he nodded but stayed where he was. Spock looked at him, unsure of what he was going to do. Completely without warning nor anticipation, Spock’s head was shoved underwater. It was harsh, unforgiving. They pulled his head back up, only to throw it right back under when he began to take a breath. The water stung he coughed on it, only ushering more into his throat as he was still under.

The ripped his head back up. He coughed up water harshly, it dripped off his face and onto the floor, his hair and face soaked. The hacking made Spock’s ribs throb. It was at this moment Spock realized, no matter how hard he tried, he hated being in the water.

Azan walked over to stand in front of Spock, “Not very pleasant? Is it? Now, if you’d just give me the codes, it’d all be over. I wouldn’t hurt you anymore, hell, maybe I’d give you a shot for the pain,” he paused, “Codes?”

“I will not tell you,” Spock croaked. They shoved him back under the water, hitting his forehead on the rim of the tub by accident, gashing it open, the water tinted a bit green by the blood.

“Spock. I don’t want to kill you, I can’t get what I need without you.”

“I will not,” Spock took a breath, “tell you.”

Azan nodded and they shoved him back under. The water burned against the cut on his forehead. The gashes from the whip on his back hurt. The slashes from the knife on his wrist hurt. His head hurt from the constant headache, created by the use of the chemical to knock him out, the lights that were shone in his eyes, the hits he’d taken to his face, the stress plaguing his mind. The absence of Jim’s comfort from the bond. He’d blocked it off, shielded it all he could. Ever since it’s creation Spock hadn’t felt the suffocating emptiness that he’d mistaken for salvation prior. And know, both it and the water was choking him.

Jim. He had to stay strong for Jim. His failure could result in Jim’s demise. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t put his t’hy’la in harm’s way. 

They pulled his head back up, and Azan glared coldly, “Come to think of it, I do want to kill you. But I need you as leverage if you won’t give me what I want,” He pushed the tub away with his foot, and kneeled so he was at eye level with Spock, “So consider this a favor. That I’m keeping you alive.”

He stood and thrust his foot into Spock’s chest, only amplifying the pain, “At least, that I’m keeping you alive for now.”


	6. And I'll Use You as a Warning Sign

“Are they mad!?” Leonard growled.

“You know how admiralty is, they want us to get our asses back on track and just file them as dead,” Sulu griped.

Sulu had been trying to get Leonard to calm down for days now, truth be told, when he first woke up in the medbay to hear that only he and Jayla had been beamed back from the away mission, and the Niktuns had captured their Capitan and First Officer, he was livid too. But Leonard, now Leonard was enraged. And now, right once Sulu had almost had him calmed down enough to actually continue explaining his plan, Admiral Sath commned them to let know that if they don’t leave the system to go onto the next, Sulu and Leonard, being stand-in Capitan and First Officer would both be court-martialed so fast it’d make the whole damn ship spin.

“We can’t just leave em’ down there Sulu! Sure, we can’t find life signs, but we couldn’t find half the Niktunian population under all the damn snow clouds in their atmosphere!” McCoy yelled.

“We’re not leaving them down there. They’re not dead, I know it,” he sighed, “and I also don’t.”

The two sat in silence for a few moments. The only sound being the rhythmic beeping of monitors from the biobeds in the medbay. They were in McCoy’s office, mostly because it was the most private place they could find to talk at this hour without waking half the crew up with their yelling. Neither of them had slept well or really at all for the past 3 days, the anxiety and grief from not having their beloved half-Vulcan and Capitan on board.

“You said you had a plan?” Leonard asked, “Before Admiral Dickhead called?”

“The start of one, we don’t know much about the planet, and our scanners don’t work too well with the atmosphere, but, I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“So, the palace, there’s this, this,” Sulu trialed off. He walked over to Bones’ desk and started stacking pads, rearranging styluses, and the other things on the desk, making a very shoddy model of the castle.

Leonard looked at him, confused, “what does my desk have to do with your plan?”

“It’s, it’s a replication of the palace we met at, at least the outside. So you have the main building, and all of its parts, but right here,” Sulu pointed to a communicator, “It looked almost like a door, kind of similar to that of a house in the early 21st century with the basement door on the outside. I think that if they are going to hold prisoners, they’d hold them there. It’s unassuming, and could easily be covered by, hell, it could be covered by dirt if you wanted to.”

Leonard sighed, “I wish I could give you an opinion, but I wasn’t there. Nobody else knows what it looked like except for you, Jim and Spo-”

Leonard trailed off and looked over to Sulu, whose eyes lit up as well, and they said in unison, “Jayla!”

The pair went running through the halls of the  _ Enterprise _ , only an Ensing in the small Gamma shift crew seeing their mad dash out of the Medbay. They went running through the deck to the turbolift, queuing in the deck number with her room on it. They ran down to the room and knocked on the door.

When there was no answer, Sulu pounded on the door again, “Jayla!”

There was light shuffling on the other side of the door, and about a minute later, Jayla’s door opened. She was standing in an oversized shirt and shorts, her hair was down, and she looked tired. Leonard felt a pang of guilt when he saw her. After all, he was the one who had told her to go to her quarters and get some rest after she woke up from being knocked out or whatever. She hadn’t taken the news that Jim and Spock didn’t get beamed back well either, but instead of being mad, she was kind of depressed. She’d lost her whole family and all her friends to Krall, someone who’d captured them, and her, and was still working through it. She’d taken a liking to the whole crew, but especially Scotty, Spock, Leonard, and Jim. 

Leonard had sat with her for nearly 2 hours after she woke up, she was just crying, the first time he’d seen her cry before. She said something about not want harm to come to either of them. Saying that she didn’t want Kirk to be hurt because someone who cares so much about everyone else shouldn’t have to keep sacrificing himself, and Spock for the same reasons, only with the addition of not wanting to have him run the risk of suffering the same pain he did on Altamid.

Leonard found it sweet how much she liked Spock, both of them were in the minority of the ship’s population, the alien percentage, and she seemed to like how quiet he was, and that whenever she had her music playing loud, he didn’t really mind it. She seemed to enjoy just how cryptic the man could be. Part of him was familiar to her, both of them had felt so lonely, for so many years, only to find comfort in the crew of the  _ Enterprise _ .

“Jayla, we need your help,” Sulu said, “We’re trying to come up with a plan to get Jim and Spock back.”

She seemed more alert at that, “You found Spock and James T.?”

Sulu scratched at the back of his neck, “Not exactly, but we have an idea of  **how** to find them.”

Leonard spoke up, “You remember the planet and at least the stuff that happened before you were knocked out, right?”

Jayla nodded, “Of course I remember.”

“Good,” Sulu responded, “Can you get Scotty and then come to the medbay?”

“Sure,” Jayla shrugged.

“Good.”

Leonard and Sulu made their way back to the sickbay when Leonard broke the silence, “Sulu, what the hell do we need Scotty for? We’re not trying to get the whole crew up.”

“He was the one who did the beam up, so he might have an explanation as to why they weren’t beamed up with Jayla and me,” Sulu explained.

Leonard and Sulu waited about 15 minutes before Jayla and Scotty showed up, both had changed into uniforms.

“So what’re we doin’ ere at 3:00 in the mornin’?” Scotty yawned, rubbing at his face.

“Scotty, you were the one who beamed up Sulu and Jayla, correct?” Sulu asked.

“Aye, ‘at was me. What about it?”

“Why weren’t Jim and Spock beamed up?” Leonard demanded, the fear of losing his friends taking over, and morphing into anger. Sulu put a calming hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know. Lads were on the screen when I locked onta’ em’, but right as I beamed up ya two up, the signal for em’ was disrupted. Got tackled or somthin’. The signal was already pretty shoddy, so I couldna’ get em’ back,” Scotty explained, his expression glum by the end.

Sulu sighed, “It’d take us about 2 days at warp 7 to get back to Gavnar VI, we don’t have a good signal in the atmosphere so there’s no way we’d get much of anything all the way out here.”

Jayla piped up, “If it took us 3 days to get here then how will take 2day, at  **warp 7** to get back?”

Sulu rubbed his temple, “Yesterday, Starfleet ordered us to hit warp 10 to get to a mining settlement on Gavnar XII in order to drop off emergency supplies. Now they want us out of the system completely.”

Scotty’s jaw dropped, both shocked and angry, “The hell!? So they’re jus’ gonna abandon 2 of their best officers!?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what they want us to do,” Leonard grumbled.

The engineer looked to Sulu, “Are ya gonna listen to em’?”

Sulu shook his head, “No, we’re not just leaving them behind. Our only problem is that we have no way of telling where they are and only a vague idea of where they could be.”

Leonard sighed, “For all we know they could’ve been sold into the slave trade and halfway across the galaxy.”

“Wait,” Jayla said, “We took a shuttle, but were beamed back.”

Scotty looked up a Jayla, and Sulu’s eyes flicked back and forth between them, “What about the shuttle?”

Scotty ran a hand through his hair, “The best connection we can get is wit our ships, includin’ shuttles. We can tap inta’ the scanner of the ship ya left behind and try ta kind em’ like that.”

Leonard was filled with new hope at this, “How long will it take you to do?”

“An hour at most.”

\--1 hour later--

The group gathered around the computer screen in the transporter room, the signal stabilizing. Scotty moved over to allow McCoy to type in the code for Jim and Spock, both of which were genetically synced to them. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as it went through, searching the area via the long-range sensor on the ship.

Just as the search finished, the screen went black, and the stabilizing message popped up again.

“Dammnit,” Leonard cursed under his breath.

Everybody let out a sigh, and Sulu piped up, “What the hell are we supposed to do now?”

Jayla looked down at her feet, “We can’t just run in blind, then we’d be terrorists to them.”

Suddenly a small pinging sound came from the computer, everybody rushed over and looked at the screen, the signal wasn’t strong enough to do much for them, but two red dots, those matching the genetic codes. Everybody looked to Sulu.

“Turn the ship around.”


	7. But I Missed You More Than I Thought I Would

Spock’s eyes fluttered open, the whole room seemed to spin as he did. He felt lightheaded, nauseous. He didn’t know how long he’d been here, or how long it’d been since the last round of torture, his hair was dry, so it must’ve have been a little while. As Spock became more aware, his chest began to throb in pain, the pulsating agony eliciting a soft, barely audible groan.

It was then that he realized, he was no longer tied up, nor in the room of the previous day’s torture, rather, he was laid on the stone table from the first day, strapped down. Laying on the hard surface made the gashes on his back hurt worse, but so did kneeling. Everything hurt, doing anything hurt, it was just all pain. Pain he felt he could no longer control. The pain that everyone on Vulcan said he should be able to control, pain that nobody thought he was able to control. Pain that was proving them right.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Sock glanced over to his right, Azan was walking into the room, conceited as ever.

He walked over to Spock, looking down upon him, “You know what I want Spock. You’ll save yourself a great deal of both pain and humiliation if you just give me what I want.”

“No,” Spock replied, the pain infecting his voice the slightest bit.

Azan shook his head, “Really is a shame. I’m sure that at least someone liked your fake, half-blooded facade over your emotion,” he walked over to a table and grabbed a small pen-like object, “And I’m sure Starfleet liked how you can hold your tongue. As I said, it’s a shame.”

He sauntered back over to Spock, “Gavnarian Rattlesnake venom,” he shrugged, “with a few other things.”

Spock began attempting to pull at the restraints, his mind racing. He couldn’t put his crew in danger, he couldn’t put Jim in danger, he couldn’t have them hurt because of his failings.

He looked to the guards in the room, “Restrain him.”

They did as they were told, and held him down, he tried to fight but the pain consuming him was too great, all he could manage was a slight fidget before one of the guards gripped down on his forearm, and right as he moved, felt something crack, the pain shooting through him so fast, that he could barely react before something stung his neck. It was Azan, pressing the hypo into him.

“So, Spock. What are the codes?”

Spock said nothing, already feeling the poison’s effects. His headache and nausea amplified, and everything felt so much colder than it already was. His vision was blurry and everything seemed to make less and less sense. Spock tried to push back the pain in his mind, but it was too great. He couldn’t do it anymore. He felt so weak, so powerless.

“Spock,” Azan said, loading another hypo, “Tell me the codes. What are the security codes to the  _ Enterprise _ ?”

“Rai,” Spock mumbled.

Azan seemed to light up a bit, “Say that again.”

“No,” Spock repeated, his voice stronger this time.

Azan’s eyes went dark, he jabbed Spock in the neck with another hypo, “What are the codes, you stupid half-blood!?”

“I will not tell you,” Spock slurred.

Azan glared to the guard at Spock’s right side. He bent Spock’s arm in such a way it was never meant to. The crack that had occurred earlier and that pain was nothing similar to this, everything was too loud, everything was amplified, especially the pain, the feeling of bone breaking. Spock couldn’t suppress it anymore, control be damned. He yelled out, the agony was unbearable.

Azan grabbed a knife, twirling it in his fingers, “Spock, give me the codes, and I’ll take you out of this misery.”

“No,” Spock mumbled, his mind hazy, as he was actively reminding himself to speak in English.

Rage filled Azan, his eyebrows furrowed and he scrunched up his nose, he marched over to grab another hypo, and stabbed it into Spock. Spock felt the shots taking over, and the taste of copper blood hung in his mouth.

“Stand him up,” Azan ordered.

His guards looked shocked, “Sir-”

“Do as I say!” he yelled.

They quickly did his bidding, letting Spock go and taking him off of the table. Spock stood for maybe 5 seconds before his legs gave out on him. Everything was spinning violently, everything ached, from his head to his knees. He was shaking violently from the venom, and blood was dripping out of his mouth. All he really wanted right now was to hear McCoy’s gruff voice as he stuck him with a sedative and a painkiller.

“Get up,” Azan snarled, marching out of the room.

The guards pulled Spock up and came into place behind Azan. As much as they had done to hurt him, Spock didn’t dislike them in the way he disliked Azan. Their bare hands were holding him up, and due to the fact that they’d stripped him of his science uniform, their hands were on his bare skin, and there was only one emotion coming from them: fear. Pure, unbridled, fear.

Azan lead them deeper into a well-lit hall, and turned to Spock, “Last chance Spock, What are the codes?”

He said nothing only hung his head, averting himself from Azan’s gaze. This earned him a kick to the chest, more blood dripping out of his mouth.

“So be it. Your mistake Spock. But, I hope you enjoy seeing your little friend.”

Spock’s blood ran cold, he captured someone else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan Definitions:
> 
> Rai: No
> 
> That's all. Also, Spock, I am so sorry.


	8. That If You Talk Enough Sense Then You'll Lose Your Mind

Azan lead the group down the hall, the light diminishing a bit, but never reaching the same dimness as the other rooms he’d been to. They passed by cells, most of them were empty save for a few Niktunian inmates. They’d had looked up at them when they passed by, low murmuring in the background as they went past.

The poison was hitting Spock hard, he could hardly get a footing on the ground, and when he did, he could hold out for maybe 2 minutes before he slipped up again. There was a steady flow of blood coming from his mouth and the lower part of his shirt was saturated with blood. His arm ached from the break and the death grip the guards currently had on it, but it was the only thing keeping him standing.

Eventually, they came to a stop, Azan looked over his shoulder and upon seeing the agony Spock was in, the pained look on his normally emotionless face, he smiled maliciously. He proceeded forward a few feet, stopping in front of a cell.

“Hey,” he barked, “Get up.”

There was shuffling from beyond the bars, before a bodiless voice snarled, “What?”

Spock felt as if every breath had escaped from his body. As if Azan had kicked him in the chest with the same force he did the first time all over again. This couldn’t be possible. He had failed somewhere along the line, hadn’t he? He’d said something and didn’t know it, hadn’t he? There had to be something he was missing, something he did. This couldn’t be.

Azan turned back and went up to Spock, giving him a hard kick to the chest, before taking him from the guards. He had a bruising grip directly on the break in his arm, the pain was sickening. He drug him in front of the cell, and it confirmed Spock’s worst thought. Because just beyond the bar of the cell in that godforsaken palace, was Jim. His Capitan, his love, his everything. The only relief Spock could feel being at the sight of the lack of blood of his command gold shirt. He looked the same, a little dirty, but otherwise okay.

But as for Jim when he saw Spock, he went cold, his face went pale.

“What did you do to him!?” Jim demanded.

“Nothing much, only what I promised to do,” Azan purred.

Spock could barely stand, he was shaking, his whole body was threatening to simply collapse, right on the floor. But he didn’t let himself. He didn’ need Jim to be any more scared. He remembered when he was sitting in the radiation chamber, and the words echoed in his mind,  _ I’m scared, Spock. Help me not be. _

“The only fucking promise you made was to not hurt him!” Jim cursed.

“Mind your tone Capitan,” Azan warned, “I said you would regret not telling me the codes, I never said how I would get you to do that. So really, you’re just as guilty as I am.”

“Ish-veh qual ri na’ lafot,” Spock mumbled.

It wasn’t loud enough for Jim to hear, but Azan did, while he had no idea what he was saying, he tightened his grip substantially on his arm, eliciting a soft squeak of pain from Spock.

Jim saw the small contortion in Spock’s face at the feeling, “Let him go, he can’t do anything to you! You’re only hurting him more!”

Azan smiled, “Why would I let him go? Seeing him in pain obviously upsets you, I’ sure you’d do anything to take him out it, even-”

“No,” Jim stated, he hated watching Spock suffer, but it was a choice had to make. He couldn’t put the rest of the crew in danger and know the sadistic madman before him, he wouldn’t hold up his end anyway. And knowing Spock, he’d earn himself a lecture on why that was so illogical you could find the logic in that decision on a long-range scanner. But right now, Jim was almost wishing for one of those lectures, just to hear Spock’s voice again, know that if he was talking, he had to be at least the tiniest bit okay, somewhere within him had to be okay.

Jim looked at his love, he was slumped over even though he was standing, his black undershirt soaked with green blood. His arm was bruised and bloodied on one side and cut up on the other. His face was bruised and dried blood was crusted to his forehead. 

Azan looked between the two, there was common pain they shared, and it lay in watching the other suffer. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. The arrogant leader looked to Jim and the terror in his eyes at the sight of his love, bruised, broken, and bleeding. Azan smiled, unsheathing a blade, and ripping it through the scar of his injury on Altamid.

Jim screamed, and Azan relished in his pain. He threw Spock down into the cell, he slid across the ground, leaving a streak of green blood on the floor. He groaned, trying to get himself up, but he was too weak, in too much pain, everything was too much. Jim wrapped him in his arms and held him tight.

Cradling his first officer, Jim growled, “You said you wouldn’t hurt him!”

Azan looked at him with a devious smirk, “And you said he wouldn’t break,” he observed the knife in his hand, the emerald blood coating it shimmered, “Also, you aren’t really in a place to make the rules, now are you?”

Jim said nothing, he panted, mind going white with rage.

“No, you’re not,” Azan divulged, slamming the cell door.

“But, neither of you are in place to do much of anything for me. I don’t need either of you anymore. You’re obviously both too thick-headed to understand my motives and what I want,” he growled.

He shrugged, “But who knows, Spock. Maybe if you’d been more useful, your Capitan wouldn’t have to suffer too.”

Jim held Spock closer, more protectively, “You son of a-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Azan interrupted, “I suggest you hold that thought, Kirk. You wouldn’t want your precious First Officer to be killed, now would you?”

Jim barred his teeth but said nothing.

“I didn’t think so,” Azan said, turning on his heel, and yelling to the guards, “They’re useless to us now, report to the rest of the battalion.”

“Jim,” Spock panted, half panicked.

Jim snapped out of his rage-filled haze, and looked at his First Officer, worried, “What? What is it?”

“Au ma, au ma t’nash-veh deik. Azan, ish Yel-Halitra af’rt deik,” Spock said at such a speed that worried Jim. He never talked that fast unless he was genuinely terrified, let alone in Vulcan.

Jim shook his head bit, “Spock, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

Spock paused for a moment, trying to think of the sentence he was trying to get out, the haze and blur of his mind making it exponentially harder.

“They,” Spock coughed, “They have, they have my file. He ac-accessed, the Starfleet data files.”

Jim’s face contorted, “Spock, they didn’t get the files,” Spock looked at the azure blue eyes of his love, still shining bright in the dim cell, “I, I gave them to him. I gave him your file.”

Spock looked at Jim, his emotions a hurricane within, a chaotic mixture of sheer betrayal and confusion.

Jim looked as if he was on the brink of sobbing, “He said he wouldn’t hurt you, Spock. He said that if I gave him access to your file he wasn’t going to hurt you,” he began rambling on, “I believed him, for some stupid reason I believed him. I thought that if I did it, he really wouldn’t hurt you,” Spock suddenly felt something he couldn’t name, a cross between guilt from himself, and affection from Jim’s side of their bond, “if it was me he’d threatened I never would have given it to him, but it was you, and I hadn’t seen you, and I couldn’t feel you in my head. I was scared, Spock. I was scared. And I did it out of emotion. I did something that ended up hurting you and made that choice on the very thing you suppress because people make that choice and get that outcome. I’m so sorry Spock. So, damn, sorry.”

Jim was crying now, not harshly, but gently, in such a way that it seemed to be more out of relief instead of guilt or sadness.

“You are not at fault, k’diwa” Spock mumbled.

Jim gave Spock a gentle smile. He’d missed the Vulcan’s names for him and he’d missed seeing his face. He’d missed holding him in his arms as they drifted off to sleep each night. He’d missed feeling him in his head.

“Spock?” He asked gently.

His love gave a small noise of conformation that he’d heard him. This was a bad sign, Jim knew it was, “What did he do? Did he do something to your head?”

Spock stayed quiet, the attempt at mental torture he’d made was far from the worst thing that had happened, but it was still traumatizing to him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jim said, pushing messy, raven black hair off Spock’s forehead, revealing the gash on his hairline.

Jim felt anxiety rising within him, right about now, he was really wishing he’d paid more attention in First-Aid training or when McCoy was droning on about, ‘Damn Vulcan physiology’ or something.

“Can you sit up?” he asked. Spock nodded and tried to push himself up out of Jim’s arms. He winced as he put the pressure of holding himself upon the break in his arm and the ache from the newly opened scar on his stomach. The pain shooting through him only intensified the already severe nausea and made his head spin more. Jim quickly wrapped his arms around him to assist him. Jim got him upright but he curled in on himself once he got there trying to staunch the blood flow from the wound in his torso.

Jim rubbed his hands up and down quickly, on his beloved’s biceps, trying to warm him up a bit, only for him to wince as his fingertips brushed against his shoulder blades a bit. Jim stopped, looking at Spock, eyes full of worry, “Spock, can I take a look at your back?”

He nodded, the action only making his head pound more, and the ill-feeling rise in his throat. Jim knelt down behind him and tried to pull his shirt up without hurting him. The wounds were nowhere close to healed, but they weren’t bleeding anymore, and were scabbed the slightest bit, but were still painful. 

Jim pulled Spock’s shirt back down, and went in front of him, “Spock, is it okay if I move you?”

Spock looked at him, confused. Jim pointed to the left, back, corner of the small cell, there was a small cot with a bedroll on it, “You’ll be more comfortable there than on the ground.”

Spock’s eyebrows knitted a bit, “What about you?”

Jim picked Spock up as gently as he could, “I’m not the one who’s all bloodied up, Spock.”

Jim walked slowly walked over to the cot, as not to cause Spock further discomfort. He lowered him into the cot gently when there was the sound of footsteps approaching the cell. Jim turned to face the bars and stood in such a way that it seemed as if he was body-blocking Spock.

A Niktunian woman came into view, holding something in her arms. 

Jim let out a sigh of relief, “It’s just you,” he turned to Spock, “This Alaya, she was at the gates when we came. She’s okay, she’s not gonna hurt you.”

She smiled sadly at Spock, giving him her attempt at the Vulcan salute he’d given her at the start of this mess. He gave her his own attempt back, but it was far from perfect.

She looked to Jim, “I found you bandages, I heard he was brought back to you,” she said gesturing to Spock.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the bandages.

There was a tapping coming from the end of the hall, and Alaya whipped her head around to look at where it was coming from. She nodded, and Jim nodded back. With that, she walked off as if nothing had happened.

Jim ran back over to Spock and shoved the bandages under the cot, just as a pair of guards passed by. They only spared a quick glance into the cell, scowling at the blood-streaked floor, and then continuing on.

Jim fished the bandages out from under the bed and got a small bowl of water from the front of the cell. 

He came back over, and shook his head, “This place is a mess, Spock. Probably already guessed, but that Azan guy is a tyrant, took over this place. Alaya told a bit about him, apparently, she’s some sort of messenger to him,” Jim ripped off a piece of his undershirt, and dipped it in the water, “She said that if he figures out what she’s doing for us, she’ll probably be killed or something.”

Jim pushed the black shirt Spock was wearing up and grabbed his makeshift cloth to wipe off the blood, he looked up and his blood ran cold, “Good god, Spock.”

The right side of his ribcage was bruised horribly, and scrapes adorned it. And just below that, the scar that had been torn and was now bleeding openly. Jim gently cleaned his torso, but it still caused great pain. Spock was shaking unforgivingly the whole time, half glad that Jim didn’t know it was a result of the poison, he had enough to worry about. 

“It’s okay Spock,” Jim soothed, “I know I’m not Bones, but you’re doing really well.”

Spock didn’t respond, he was just trying to focus on Jim, trying to keep his vision from blurring out. Jim moved onto Spock’s ribcage, dipping the cloth back in the water, trying to squeeze some of the blood out, 

“I’m gonna take it they didn’t keep you in a cell?”

“Rai, au fam,” Spock mumbled.

Jim gave him a kiss on the forehead, “English baby, English.”

Spock was trying to think of the words in Standard, it was far more difficult than it should’ve been, but the haze over his mind was doubling down on seemingly everything he needed to do, making him default to Vulcan.

“No,” Spock muttered, trying to keep the sentence as simple as possible.

“Doesn’t seem like they did,” Jim said, brushing the cloth other Spock’s chest. The pain from just the cloth accompanied by the extremely light pressure Jim put on was enough to make the pain and nausea rip through Spock. Spock pushed Jim’s hand off his chest and shot up.

Jim tried to push him back down, “Spock, what are you doing!?”

“I...I,” Spock stuttered, the single word slurred by the blood in his mouth. Jim saw the fearful look in Spock’s eyes, as he failed to try and get across what he was saying. He slumped over, and Jim wrapped his arms around him. Barely holding himself up by gripping onto Jim’s biceps, Spock was trying to even out his shaky breathing trying to suppress this, the pain, the nausea, everything.

Spock coppery taste and the warmth of his own blood dripping from his mouth, and onto the floor.

Jim pushed Spock’s head back up, only to see the green mess dribbling from his mouth. He grabbed the soaked cloth and brushed it across his lips, suddenly wishing that they had more water so he could wash his mouth out.

“You good?” Jim asked gently rocking Spock back and forth in his embrace. Spock brokenly hummed in conformation, and Jim laid him back down. He was shivering, looking so weak and helpless. Jim hated seeing him like this, especially because he knew Spock hated it just as much. He hated knowing that every damn time something like this happened to him, the only thing Spock could think about was the critical voices from his past, telling him he wasn’t good enough, telling him he’d never be good enough, telling him the horrible pain he was in was all his fault.

Jim grabbed a roll of the bandages and started to wrap the wound on Spock’s abdomen, “Just a little more Spock. You’re gonna be okay.”

Spock nodded, his face scrunched in pain, but still trying not to scare Jim more than he already had. His head hurt, breathing hurt, everything hurt. 

Jim stroked Spock’s hair and placed a kiss on his lips, “There, you’re all wrapped up.”

Jim gently pulled Spock’s shirt back don over the wound and bandages, spotting his arms while he did so. So was cut up, a pretty bad rope burn over it. The other was severely bruised, and swollen, not to mention bent in a way that it shouldn’t bend.

“Spock…” he muttered, glancing at his love’s face, grimacing a bit. He didn’t want to put Spock through the already sickening pain of setting a bone without equipment, but if he didn’t it would be exponentially worse if they got back to the  _ Enterprise _ . Jim took his train of thought to a screeching halt. No, no they were going to get home. It was going to be when they got back to the  _ Enterprise _ .

Spock nodded, understanding what Jim meant. They couldn’t just leave it alone, it would only get worse. Jim pulled Spock up and turned his love towards him, Spock tried to even out his breathing, but what was the use? He was actually starting to wonder if it was possible for him to become any more nauseated than he already was.

Jim tried to calm himself down as much as he could, knowing that he’d be touching Spock’s skin with his bare hands, putting him through something that Bones carried emergency sedatives around for, without even the smallest bit of anything even remotely close to similar. As illogical as it was, Spock himself was wishing that the poison Azan had used was some sort of depressant, rather than just making his pain receptors hypersensitive.

“Okay,” Jim soothed, “It’ll all be over before you know it, you’ll be okay.”

Jim pressed down on the bone willing it back into place. The pain exploded in Spock’s arm, almost to the point that it was almost just a searing white pain, on the line between being felt with every cell in his body and not existing at all, but forever teetering on the edge of the prior. A sickening snap, and then Jim let go, but Spock was still shaking, even more violently than before. He held his arm to his chest, even though bending it hurt, the nausea was horrible, nowhere close to any form of it Spock had ever felt before. 

Jim sat down next to him, “Spock-”

He was cut off by a small gag, he looked over to see green blood running down Spock’s lips again. He picked Spock up and set him down gently on the floor, as to prevent him from throwing up on his already dirty clothes. He stroked Spock’s silky hair gently, trying to soothe him as much as he could. Spock eventually stopped but was still shaking, still in terrible pain though.

Jim picked him back up, resting him on the bedroll. He took off his command shirt and slipped it onto Spock. Jim nestled down next to him on the small cot. Stroking his cheek, Jim asked, “Spock what did he do to you? Other than cut you and punch you or kick you and whatnot, what did he do?”

Spock stayed quiet for a few moments, he didn’t want to worry Jim, but it was going to come out eventually.

“Lunikkh,” Spock mumbled.

Jim sighed, combing Spock’s disheveled hair with his fingers a bit, “Baby, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

Spock’s eyes cast down, he couldn’t let himself fall apart in this way He couldn’t keep scaring Jim, he was fearful, he knew it, even through the guarded bond, Spock could feel it bleeding through. And Spock was scared too. He had tried so many times to come to terms with imminent death, but he just couldn’t he always through t of those he’d leave behind, he thought of Jim and his crew. Spock couldn’t hold it back anymore, he couldn’t hold back his fear. 

A ragged breath cut through Spock, it throbbed within his ribs and his wound, it made his head hurt so much worse. Jim looked at his bondmate. His beloved half-Vulcan, his t’hy’la. 

He wrapped his arms around him gently, “Spock, baby, what did he do? What did the bastard do?”

“Poison,” Spock mumbled into Jim’s shirt.

“What?” Jim asked, stroking Spock’s back tenderly as not to hurt him.

“Poison,” Spock repeated.

Jim’s blood ran cold, he pulled his boyfriend closer. That son of a bitch would pay. If it weren’t for the bars, or that Spock needed to be cared for, he already would have.

[ _ Vulcan Language Dictionary _ ](https://www.starbase-10.de/vld/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's Vulcan in this chapter, (duh) and I personally think that the definitions of the words are pretty clear based on the text that follows, but if you're still confused, I'll put a link to the Vulcan Language Dictionary (VLD) at the end of the story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I want to say sorry to my precious Spocko, you did nothing to deserve this but it'll all be over soon, I promise.
> 
> Ish-veh qual ri na’ lafot: He is not at fault
> 
> Rai au fam: No they {did} not  
> (The VLD has nyctophobia, the phobia of the dark/night, but not "did". Why? IDK)


	9. And I Found Love Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be

Spock felt as if something was constricting his abdomen from within, the ache was so horrible and so relentless, he thought as if he might just scream out. He knew what it was, it the poison, taking its hold. It was bad before, but now? It was worse. And steadily worsening.

He let out a strangled groan, waking Jim, “Spock? Spock, what’s wrong?”

Spock didn’t answer, he almost doubted that he could. The pain was so harsh, nearly paralyzing, he almost wished that he could just throw up again, as he had throughout the time they’d spent between this moment and when he had enlightened Jim as to what had happened before they were reunited.

Jim sat up, “Spock? Spock, can you answer me?”

Jim took Spock in his arms, trying to relax him in order to take the pressure off of the wound on his abdomen as he was tightly curled in on himself, nearly in a fetal position. 

“Y-yes,” Spock struggled.

Jim looked down at his love, slowly uncurling, and shaking violently. His breathing was labored and the pain was dizzying. The ache in his ribs was almost overshadowed completely by the cramping in his abdomen. 

Jim took Spock’s right hand, so he didn’t disturb the break by wrapping it around himself so tightly it could shift the bone back out of place. Jim held it gently, but Spock didn’t do the same back, so it was an awkward grip.

“Spock,” Jim soothed, “Spock, just look at me. Just breathe okay?”

Spock looked up to the azure blue eyes of his lover, filled with concern, and love. The touch of heir skin flowed through Spock, as Jim was trying to calm down in order to help him.

A sharp pain cut through Spock again, just as the feeling seemed to be fading. He tried to wriggle his hand out of Jim’s in order to return to his original position, even though it hurt his arm terribly.

Jim held on, and with his free hand, ran his fingers through raven black hair, “Hold my hand, Spock. You’re going to be okay. It’s all going to be alright.”

The most terrifying thing to Jim about all this was that he honestly had no idea if that was true. He had no idea how long Spock would be able to hold out. Hed lost a lot of blood just sitting here, and Jim had done his best at trying to remember and perform all the things he learned in that First Aid training course and from Bones, and whatnot. But he wasn’t a doctor, he didn’t have any medication on him, he’d dirtied their water with blood yesterday, and all he really had to help Spock was comforting words, and a couple of rolls of gauze bandages.

Both Jim and Spock perked up t the sound of a door slamming and footsteps approaching their cell. Jim took Spock off of his lap, setting him back on the cot gently. He came to the front of the cell to see what was up, see who was coming. 

It was Azan. he came to so in front of the cell, wearing his elaborate, royal robes as usual. He looked at the cell, scrutinizing the room with disgust. He grimaced a bit when he saw the emerald blood on the floor, Spock trembling on the cot, and Jim standing just a mere 2 feet in front of him, only separated by bars.

“Pathetic isn’t it? For such a man of such a proud race to be reduced to practically nothing and left to die on a stretcher,” Azan smirked, “But I guess you are just a half-blood anyway.”

“Leave him alone,” Jim hissed.

Azan shook his head, “I could care less about your first officer.”

He began pacing in front of the cell, his head held high, “I am giving each of you one last chance, and, if you answer me, I’ll take you out of this cell, and give you medical supplies. So, what are the security codes to the  _ Enterprise _ ?”

Jim’s eye flicked over to his love, and Spock could see it in his eyes, he was genuinely tempted to answer.

Jim opened his mouth to speak, but Spock cut him off and rasped, “We will not tell you.”

Azan looked at hi, disgusted, then he looked to Jim, “And you?”

Jim looked to the arrogant leader standing before him, “You heard him.”

Azan glared coldly, “So be it. Your filthy half-blooded friend won’t survive much longer, the toxin will take its toll on him. Eventually, it’ll just hurt too bad, and he’ll just,” he stopped shrugging his shoulders, “give up.”

Azan looked to Jim, “Also if you’re looking for someone to blame, I’d suggest him. He’s the reason you’re stuck here after all.”

Jim looked at him coldly, his eyes filled with anger. With that, Azan turned and left. 

Jim walked back over to Spock, “What a bastar-”

The sound of banging and phaser fire cut Jim off. There was silence for a few seconds and then guards ran past the cells, weapons in hand to respond to it. Whatever it may be. Spock pushed himself up, trying to push down the shudders that plagued him. Jim stood up and put a hand on Spock’s shoulder. 

“Just stay here,” he went to the front of the cell and looked out trying to see whatever it was that was so alarming. He couldn’t see anything, the sounds were the only thing depicting the threat. Jim was looking around, trying to get such an angle that he could see to the end of the hall. The sound was getting louder, closer. Jim went back and grabbed Spock. 

Jim put Spock’s arm over his shoulder and his own around his First Officer’s waist and, pulled him up, “You okay?”

Spock nodded but was shaky on his feet. The sounds of the banging were much louder in his ears than they were in reality. It didn’t help his headache, and the headache didn’t help the ever-present nauseous feeling.

Jim walked Spock over to the bars, “What the hell do you think that is?”

“Danik kesik nashiv t’ ein wihfelau,” Spock mumbled, relying almost entirely on Jim to stay standing.

There was a harsh, thudding, sound at the end of the hall, the loudest one yet.

Jim tightened his grip around Spock, “Spock, English, you can do it.”

Spock tried to think, as hard as he could, but everything in his mind was blurry, the pain was getting to him the longer he stood, the scrapes on his knees starting to ache. His breath coming out far rougher than it should have. His entire torso hurt, from the gashes on his back, to his broken ribs, to the cramps from the poison, to the already painful scar that was reopened. The banging and shouting were getting louder, it hurt Spock’s ears, it made his headache worse. For once in his life, he genuinely wanted to just lay on the floor, and cry from the pain.

“Spock, what are you trying to say? You can do it,” Jim encouraged, although his voice was hitched a bit with fear.

Spock just mumbled something incoherent in response. He’d fully underestimated the extent of just how bad he was hurt, he’d been standing for maybe 5 minutes and felt more exhausted than he knew possible. Jim got the drift and laid him down on the floor, just out of sight from the bars so the wall might offer a little respite from the loud sounds. There was more blood dripping out of his mouth, and his hand was clutched over the wound on his stomach. The ruckus was getting louder.

Jim knelt down next to Spock, who looked like he was a breath away from passing out, “Cmon’ Spock, don’t-”

“Capitan!”

Jim whipped his head up to see Sulu, phaser in hand, standing on the other side of the bars, “Sulu!”

He shot the lock with the phaser, breaking it, allowing the door to swing open, “We have to go before more of them show up.”

Jim nodded and ducked back into the cell to grab Spock, who was just barely awake anymore.

He gently picked him up in his arms, whispering, “Just a little longer.”

Sulu didn’t spare much as a concerned glance before the 3 went running off down the hall. Or more accurately, the 2 running down the hall.

“How the hell did you find us?” Jim asked.

Sulu looked over to them as they were running, “We left the shuttle behind! We tapped into the range scanner on it and searched for Human and Vulcan life signs.”

They turned a corner and ran up a flight of stairs, Sulu shoved open the door at the end of it. Even in his half-conscious state, Spock recognized it as the room Azan had tortured him in. They darted through it quickly, and up into the main part of the palace. Sulu stopped them at a corner, raising a phaser and looking for anyone who might attack them. Jim looked down at the half-Vulcan in his arms, blood still running down his chin, arm bruised and swollen. He looked to be in so much pain.

Jim tried to soothe him, “We’re gonna be home soon Spock, just a little longer.”

“Uh-huh,” Spock mumbled in response. Jim held him a little tighter not wanting to relive the events that happened the last time they were in this part of the castle.

He looked up to see Sulu looking at them, concerned, “What happened to him?”

“Bastard of a leader tortured him,” Jim responded, walking up to him, “Is the coast clear?”

He nodded, and they ran down the hall, “Everyone else is at the rendezvous point, Team 1 was beamed up already.”

Jim nodded, they kept running straight out of the castle, the doors were thrown open, allowing the snow coming down outside in. They went trudging through the snow as fast as they could, getting out of the village and headed back to where they’d parked the shuttle. Jim held Spock tighter, and little closer to his body so he didn’t get as cold.

“Jim…” Spock muttered.

Jim looked down at his First Officer, “We’re almost home Spock, we’re gonna be okay.”

They came to the clearing where they’d left the ship.

“James T.!” Jayla called out, running up to her Capitan, but stopping as soon as she saw Spock. 

Sulu flipped open his communicator, “Scotty, we’re ready for a beam up!”

“Aye laddie,” Scotty’s came over the channel.

“Hendroff!” Sulu called out. The Security officer peeked out of the shuttle and came to stand with the rest of the group.

“We’re all good here, nobody should be able to move it. We’ll come and get it once things settle out.”

“Good,” Sulu responded. The two becoming immersed in a conversation.

Everything seemed to be fading for Spock. Their voices were loud, but all they really sounded like were slurred sounds. Jim was blurry, Spock thought that he might be talking to him. He was looking at him, Jayla was as well. They both seemed to be saying something, but he couldn’t understand. The pain was intensifying, getting stronger and stronger.

Golden light enveloped him, and a few moments later, faded out again. He could feel that Jim was walking and then suddenly being rested on a soft surface. There was a blue blur and a slurred sound that sounded like McCoy’s voice. The sting of a needle in his neck, and then everything faded to black.


	10. Right in Front of Me

Jim was sat on a biobed in sickbay. When they’d beamed aboard, Bones and his team had been standing in the transporter room, 2 antigrav gurneys, an emergency first aid kit, and the wrath of a concerned Southern doctor. McCoy had bolted toward them, obviously expecting both of them to be severely injured, wholly shocked to see only Spock was hurt. Although he was muttering how “slaughtered” was a better term.

He’d taken Spock to surgery and he’d been in there for about 4 hours. But now, he was fast asleep, laying on a bed in the ICU. So, Leonard’s loving wrath could only be directed to one place; Jim.

“Bones, I’m fine,” Jim huffed, “He didn’t do anything to me.”

McCoy kept scanning him with his tricorder, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Why don’t you trust me?” Jim hissed.

Leonard looked at him for a few moments, laughed, and went back to work, “Jimbo, you have gotten yourself in so much trouble that you’ve never told me about until it’s an actual problem. You’ve missed over a dozen check-ups, half of them were from being rescheduled because you missed the original ones too. I don’t trust you about your health because you’ve proven that I can’t.”

Jim furrowed his brow, “Spock’s just as bad, and you don’t hunt him down.”

McCoy grabbed a hypo and stuck Jim with it, “He’s not ‘just as bad’. Sure, if he gets sick or injured and can avoid me, he’ll try, but he doesn’t blatantly skip check-ups.”

Jim rolled his eyes.

Leonard set down his tools, and stood in front of Jim, arms crossed, “You’ve been acting really pissy with me since you got back. Why?”

Jim hopped off the bed, “It’s nothing Bones.”

He started to walk away when Bones stopped him, “He’s all situated. He’s not awake but you can see him if you want to.”

Jim smiled at McCoy. He had helped both of them through their relationship, good parts, and bad. Sure, he had a habit of picking sides and was never consistent about it, but he’d been on Jim’s side enough to know that whenever Spock wasn’t around, he worried about him, and that worry made him a little hostile towards people who prodded at him about it. 

They walked out of the treatment room and into the ICU. Jim had never liked seeing any of his crew members in there, let alone Spock. It smelled stronger of the sterilizing cleaning agent they used because of course, it did. Rather than the low hum of chatter int he normal ward, crew members, and nurses talking to patients and friends, there was mostly just the rhythmic beeping of monitors, but the usual lack of patients staying int here canceled it out. They approached one of the biobeds, hidden behind a privacy curtain.

Leonard turned to him, “Try not to freak out, please. He’s out cold but I don’t need to risk waking him up because whatever Vulcan voodoo bond you guys have turns into a floodgate of your emotions.”

Jim looked at him, “I won’t Bones.”

Bones pushed the curtain open, and the two men walked through. Jim stopped dead when he saw Spock. His right arm was in a sling and brace, his left had silvery scars where the cuts had been, and just above that an IV drip line, and another administering blood. A respirator obscured most of his face, save for the bandage that peeked out from under his bangs. He was almost glad that his chest was covered with blankets and an oversized shirt, but he was sure that underneath it was the most green-stained bandages he’d ever seen.

Jim looked at McCoy to see him loading a hypospray, “Please don’t hypo me.”

Leonard rolled his eyes, loading another, “It’s not for you, you wimp. It’s antivenom, and last time I checked you didn’t get bit by anything.”

Jim’s brows furrowed in worry, “He got bit by something?”

“That’s the thing, Jim,” Leonard sighed, “He didn’t get bit by anything. Someone injected him with a kind of venom-infused poison, or whatever.”

McCoy walked over to Spock and gave him the hypos. He tugged down the part of Spock’s shirt covering the base of his neck on the left side. There was a horrible rash over the area, the skin was flushed green, and looked almost like he’d scraped it on something in a couple of places.

McCoy put some sort of hypo to it, “The bastard shot him up with it here, it reacted with the skin like a snake bite would, making it all inflamed, it used to be a bit swollen, but I fixed that.”

Jim sighed, “Bones, do you think they’ll take him out of service?”

Leonard put the used hypo in a sharps container, “That’s what you’re worried about? Jim, I can tell you that I sure as hell am not letting him get back on active duty for at least a month, but the only way he’s never going back is if something goes wrong, and I mean horribly wrong.”

Jim crossed his arms and looked at his feet. Even though he was doing okay right now, Jim could help but feel guilty that he couldn’t have done more for him.

McCoy put a hand on his shoulder, “Jim. Spock’s a fighter, he’ll be okay.”

Jim looked to his bondmate, unconscious, paler than usual, with god knows how many painkillers and whatnot running through his blood, “Were there any problems when you took him to surgery?”

Leonard shook his head optimistically, “Other than that he was in surgery, he was okay. Also, it turns out you actually didn’t sleep through all your First Aid courses and completely ignore everything I’ve ever said.”

Jim put his hands on his hips, “ Haha, I’ve proved you wrong.”

McCoy raised his eyebrows, “Start showing up to your check-ups and we’ll really be getting somewhere.”

Jim’s eyes widened, “Now that’s a tall order Bones.”

“Doctor McCoy?” Chapels peeked her head in.

Leonard turned to look at her, “What now?”

“Accident in Engineering, nothing serious just a couple cut hands.”

“I’ll be right there,” he groaned.

Jim waved him off, “It’s okay Bones. I should probably head to the bridge anyway.”

“Alright,” McCoy shrugged, following Chapels out.

Jim went to leave as well, but he took a glance at his boyfriend, gave him a quick kiss of the forehead, and left.

“James T!”

Jim turned to see Jayla running towards him.

“Hey Jayla,” he waved.

She came to stop next to him, “I am glad that you’re okay.”

Jim smiled at her, “Right back at ya. I promise not all of our political missions are like that.”

Jayla laughed, “I would hope not. Because I wouldn’t go.”

“How’d things go while we were gone?” Jim asked, the 2 continuing down the hallway.

“It was okay, everybody missed you, they were worried about you both,” she shrugged, “You have a very close-knit crew, James T.”

Jim thought of the first day he’d been on the  _ Enterprise _ , sneaking aboard, getting in trouble with Pike, getting in trouble with Spock, getting marooned, getting in more trouble with Spock, the whole caboodle of shit that went down.

He chuckled, “Wasn’t always like that. Spock and used to hate each other.”

Kirk’s comm suddenly blipped, he flipped it open, “Kirk here.”

Uhura’s voice came over the line, “Admiral Sath is coming us, he wants to speak with you.”

Jim sighed, “Be right there. Kirk out.”

He hated talking with the admiralty, let alone after these messes. It was basically guaranteeing that someone was in trouble for something they had no control over, and someone was going to be threatened with a court-martial or actually get one, the usual. But Admiral Sath, now he sucked. He hated Jim with a passion, even though he’d never done anything to him. Hell, he hated Spock. While sure, admiralty had people they did and didn’t like, Spock was commonly in a gray area with them. 

They liked him because it would have to be a very rare occasion for him to ignore what they told him, but a lot of them were also so high on a horse, that the fact that he was exponentially more intelligent than them upset a few of them. But none of them hated him. Save for Sath. And neither Jim nor Spock knew why.

Jim looked over to Jayla, “Sorry I have to go.”

She shrugged, “It’s okay.”

There were a few moments of silence before she nudged him with her elbow, “As Montgomery Scotty would say, I’m glad it’s you and not me.”

Jim smiled at her, she was nice, but mixed in with her spunk and Scotty’s vocabulary, she could have a cheeky mouth when she wanted to.

“You’ll question that when you’re in a class about respecting the chain of command,” Jim teased.

Jim’s communicator blipped again, “Bye!” 

Jim ran down the hallway, Uhura may or may not kill him if she ended up stalling for him. She disliked him as much as Jim did, hell it seemed like everyone who’d ever spoken to him on the  _ Enterprise  _ disliked him.

Jim came onto the bridge and sat down in his Capitan’s chair, he’d admit he missed it. Some of the bridge crew turned and smiled at him. He’d missed them too. But what he missed right now was Spock. Lieutenant Marlena Moreau was sitting at his station instead, don’t get him wrong, she was a great scientist, Spock trusted her more than anyone else in Sciences, but what Jim missed was turning around to see his boyfriend dutifully working, and utterly fascinated by all that he was doing, even though they’d done a million times before.

He turned to look at Uhura, “Play him through.”

She nodded and went to flipping all those switches he’d never understand, and a few moments later, the call started on the view screen.

“Lieutenant Sulu you were ordered to-”

The admiral stopped dead when he saw Jim sitting in Capitan’s chair, looking a bit confused, and Sulu at the helm.

“Admiral Sath, hello,”

The admiral seemed to sigh a bit, “Capitan Kirk. Would you mind explaining where you’ve been?”

Jim seethed a bit internally, there it was, somewhere in that guy’s mind, he thought that the Capitan and First Officer of the Federation’s flagship just hit the road for a few days on unscheduled shore leave.

“Our political mission on Gavnar VI to establish a peaceful relationship with the Niktunians didn’t go quite as planned,” Jim explained, “As a result, both my First Officer, Spock, and I were captured and detained by their leader, known as Azan.”

Admiral Sath narrowed his eyes a bit, suspicious, “Your First Officer, where might he be at this time? I believe I asked for both Capitan and First Officer. Who prior to your return, was Lieutenant Sulu and Lieutenant Commander McCoy.”

“I am fully aware of the ship’s command team prior to our return admiral, however, Commander Spock is not available at the moment,” Jim responded, reminding himself to keep his shit together.

His brows furrowed, “And where might he be at this moment?”

“He’s currently in the medbay,” Jim stated, “He was severely injured during out imprisonment.”

Admiral Sath looked subtly outraged, “Is your ship currently in transit to the Havrin System?”

Jim looked to Sulu who responded, “Yes sir, we should arrive in about 23 hours.”

Jim looked back to Admiral Sath.

He seemed upsetted by the fact that the  _ Enterprise _ crew was so skilled at getting their crew out of sticky situations so fast.

“Very well,” he finally huffed, “I trust you’ll stay on that path.”

Before Jim could answer, he hung up on the call. The bridge was silent, but suddenly, someone giggled a bit, and everyone else responded in a kind of relieved laughter.

“I thought ve vere screwed,” Chekov commented.

Sulu ran his hands through his hair, “How did we not get court-martialed?”

Jim smiled as he looked to his crew, chattering and laughing, all equally surprised that they weren’t completely fucked. He really had missed them, and while it still felt like something was missing without Spock raising his eyebrow at the whole scene, and the laughter Jim saw in his eyes at times like this, it would soon be righted. He really had missed them.


	11. Chapter 11

Ight, so for anyone reading this, I have a request. If you have any ideas or things you want to happen in the final chapter, leave them in the comments, I will consider them and possibly use them in the final chapter. Why? Because I have a pathetic imagination and can't think up anything else, that's why. But seriously, if you have anything along the lines of what I said before leave it in comments, and I'll consider it. Thanks for reading!


	12. Talk Some Sense to Me

Consciousness came to Spock, abruptly and without warning. He felt almost numb, and couldn’t quite make out his surroundings. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. There was something over his face and a strong chemical smell. No, this couldn’t be happening again, Azan couldn’t be drugging him again, he couldn’t take much more before he said something. He started to claw at his face, but couldn’t move his right arm.

He felt someone grab his left wrist pulling it away from his face. He tried to fight it, but he was too weak, he couldn’t shake their grip. And yet it was gentle. They didn’t have a savage hold on him. 

“It’s okay,” a rough voice said.

Spock tried to calm himself down, his surroundings slowly fading into what they were supposed to be. He looked up to see Leonard, who was putting his arm down to rest on the biobed he was resting in. 

“That’s there to help you, Spock,” McCoy soothed, “You’re back on the  _ Enterprise _ . You’re safe.”

Leonard waved a tricorder over Spock, “You had some kind of snake venom in your bloodstream, lot of it too, so I gave you quite a few doses of antivenom, and you might feel the side effects from that later.”

Spock nodded.

Leonard grabbed a light pen and shone it in Spock’s eyes. He winced at the light, his headache still there, and so was some of the nausea, but his thoughts were much clearer. However, Leonard seemed pleased with his response and put the pen down. Spock closed his eyes gently, the lights in the room a little bothersome to him.

“Lights to 50%,” McCoy said, catching onto his discomfort.

Leonard grabbed a hypo and pressed it into Spock’s neck, “You had us worried Spock. You were pretty bad when we brought you to surgery. You wouldn’t have survived much longer there.”

“Is Jim okay?” Spock rasped.

Leonard looked at him, confused. Then he walked up next to him, and took the oxygen mask off his face, “What’d you say? It’s kind of hard to understand people when they have this thing on. Sorry about that.”

“Is Jim okay?” Spock repeated.

McCoy rolled his eyes a bit, “Jim’s fine. The only thing he needed was a really good shower.”

“Spock!”

Leonard turned around to see who just threw open the curtain, “Speak of the devil.”

Jim bolted to Spock’s side and hugged him. It wasn’t the most comfortable of hugs, the painkillers were starting to wear off, so his ribs hurt a bit as well as the gashes on his back, but rather than being overshadowed by greater pain, it was overshadowed by Jim, and the waves of relief and affection flowing from him.

McCoy drug Jim a good 2 feet from the bed, “Jim! I told you, don’t just tackle him as soon as he wakes up.”

Jim looked at him sheepishly, “Sorry.”

Jim crept back over as if McCoy would run up and stop him. He pulled up a chair and sat next to his boyfriend.

“How are you feeling?” Jim asked, brushing his hands through Spock’s hair a bit.

“I am adequate,” Spock responded.

Jim smiled and looked at his boyfriend’s eyes. Even laying in a biobed, on God knows how many painkillers and whatnot, they were still big, and their irises chocolate brown. Still, one of the most beautiful parts of Spock that Jim could think of. The most truthful, the most human.

Leonard rolled his eyes, “Yeah, what does that mean in English?”

Spock looked a bit surprised, and a little embarrassed, “I am adequate.”

McCoy looked at him, “You just said that.”

Spock raised his eyebrow, “Indeed I did, however, based on your reaction I assumed I fail to convey that in Standard.”

McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose, “I mean what the hell is ‘adequate’ supposed to mean?”

Spock looked at him, confused. He could normally follow along with the doctor’s erratic train of thought, but the painkillers made a bit of a haze hang over his head, nowhere close to the same severity as that of the poison and pain. However, he still could not successfully follow the doctor.

Jim pipped up, “Bones, I think you’re confusing him.”

Leonard rolled his eyes, “No shit Sherlock.”

McCoy stuck Spock with another hypo before an intercom message came over requesting his presence elsewhere in the sickbay. 

He placed the used hypo in a container, “Jim, don’t get any ideas about leaving.”

“We won’t!” Jim called after him as he left.

Jim looked to his bondmate, he was looking back at him.

Jim reached his arm across to Spock’s right arm and rested his hand on the brace, “I’m really sorry about how I tried to fix this when we were still down there. I know it hurt a lot.”

“It is not an issue k’diwa. It was, in fact, beneficial,” Spock said quietly.

Smiled at Spock, and Spock allowed a smile to ghost his lips in return.

Jim pressed a kiss to Spock’s lips, “I love you.”

“And I you ashaya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! The final chapter! Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I may or may not do more fics like this, I tend to do shorter fics, but this was a lot of fun. Thanks for all your support and thanks again for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. This work should be about 11 chapters long. I don't have an update time scheduled, it's really just when I have enough inspiration for each chapter to not put out a burning dumpster fire. This fic was inspired by the song "I Found" by Amber Run.
> 
> If you guys happen to have a fic request, I'll take it into consideration.


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